


Dreams and Reality

by imaginary_golux



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-04
Updated: 2012-06-04
Packaged: 2017-11-06 20:08:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 494
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/422714
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imaginary_golux/pseuds/imaginary_golux
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bellatrix loves her Lord.  Written for Porn Battle IX.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dreams and Reality

Bellatrix is mad, Voldemort knows; sometimes he rather thinks he is mad too. But mad or not, Bellatrix is perfectly capable of glamouring herself back to her former beauty – poor Bella, Azkaban took so much from her – before she creeps into his room at night. She really was a lovely woman, once, he thinks idly as he pinches one of her nipples and she arches into his hand. He is certainly not going to object to her coming to his room; while he did not order it, it is certainly not contrary to any of his orders, and the service gives them both such pleasure. Bellatrix likes to grovel there at his feet, begging for the chance to touch him, taste him, _anything, Master!_...and he likes it when she begs, since she does it so beautifully. Someday, the whole world will beg at his feet, just like his lovely Bellatrix. He is sure of it.

Bellatrix has enough sanity left to know that her Lord has changed immeasurably from the handsome man who vanished before she was sent to…that horrible place. But he is still her Lord, and serving him is still a sublime pleasure. Some nights he will not let her into his room, and that is miserable. Other nights he merely beats her, or hexes her; but anything from her Lord’s hands is better than nothing. On the best nights, he lets her lift his black robes, touch his pale, scaly skin, even lick and mouth at his member, before he grasps her head in both hands and thrusts roughly into her mouth, using her for his own pleasure, as is only proper, since he is her Lord. When he has come, he sends her away, and she curls up in her solitary bed – of course she will not let her husband join her, why should she want him when she serves her Lord? – with the salty taste of her Lord’s essence in her mouth, and dreams of the day when he will rule the world with her kneeling beside his throne, most treasured of all his followers.

Sometimes she remembers her initiation, back when they were both young and beautiful: the night he spread her out on the altar before all his followers and proclaimed that she was most loyal of all of them, the only night he has ever deigned to use her fully, the night he took her virginity, there before her future husband. That was a glorious night. Someday, when her Lord has conquered all, they will have more nights like that.

Voldemort sends his mad servant back to her rooms – no one may sleep beside him, and even Bellatrix he does not fully trust. But he knows her secret dreams, and in his more benevolent moods he thinks that when he sits in Hogwarts’ great hall with the Wizarding World cowering before him, he will let her kneel beside him, most favored slave of all.


End file.
